


lost ghosts

by peachpreach



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Dom!Hansol, Hurt/Comfort, Light Dom/sub, M/M, party vibes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-11
Updated: 2020-08-11
Packaged: 2021-03-06 07:27:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,530
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25839592
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peachpreach/pseuds/peachpreach
Summary: wonwoo is dissolved into freedom the new country gifts him with. he unconsciously seeks for someone to make him feel real. and finds a boy speaking languages of his past and future.but, more important, the language of his heart.
Relationships: Chwe Hansol | Vernon/Jeon Wonwoo
Kudos: 9
Collections: Seventeen Rare Pair Fest: Round 1





	lost ghosts

**Author's Note:**

> i'm here to re-publish this work and apologize to the mods of SVTRarePairFest for deleting it previously without a warning and to all who might have missed it. i knew i would regret my impulsive decision, but why to cry over the spilled milk.  
> i'm sorry, and thank you for reading.

the water hits wonwoo’s skin with warm mercilessness. he shuts his eyes close and covers his face with open hands, trying to wash away the fatigue of another day in america.  
in this country time runs differently. there are days and nights, but this division is suspended and unimportant – especially for those who are young. for them, youth is the only timeline relevant. their skin is healed with daylight resting on their faces when they are locked in the classrooms. their skin is poisoned with neon lights and thick balmy smoke at night. wonwoo tried to get used to it, then he tried to preserve what remained of that wonwoo who existed in the small town on the korean seashore.  
the smell of his home was inevitably replaced by the smell of college campus. there was no use to withstand the flow of freedom which flooded his life with moving to america. he dreamed of this, but the dreams turned into something no one could predict.  
– you should come with us tonight, wonwoo. stop pretending you are not one of us, – said jisoo an hour before. only wonwoo was allowed to call him jisoo. for the rest of the college nation he was known as joshua, one of the party souls – people for whom youth was not an abstract notion. – at nine, at my place. got it?  
wonwoo sighs. he hasn’t sleep well last night, constantly being afraid of being late or making mistakes in his homework or… his head is a terrible place stuffed with study. it still ached from the language shift. he was so afraid of being different that actually missed the moment he started to do everything to cut himself off the giggling and nonchalant crowd of his group mates.  
maybe, it’s not too late to fit in this circle?

  
***

  
the party is rocking the house. all curtains shut to eliminate the last beams of the sun, music vibrating in the walls. wonwoo is nervous – he has zero experience in this, and he regrets accepting jisoo’s invitation as soon as the door to the house is opened.  
– hey! – says someone, whom wonwoo vaguely recall from lectures on astronomy.  
– hey, – answers wonwoo and shuts the door behind him. he happened to be a guest in this house before – when he first arrived, jisoo did everything to help him to adapt. now the house is glowing with blurred lights coming out from the ceiling hidden in the tsunami of suffocating smoke. wonwoo coughed and entered the room which used to be living. the music stops for a moment and then booms again, echoing in wonwoo’s chest. he feels his heart falling for the rhythm and basses.  
soon after, wonwoo wanders the house among the dancing bodies with a plastic cup of cocktail of unknown nature – but it made him feel better. the group of girls bursts into laughter and wonwoo smiles suddenly. as jisoo said – he should stop being a ghost and find the place for himself in that small realm of youth.  
wonwoo ends the cup and takes another, with a lipstick stain on it. he doesn’t care. he reaches the heart of the house, like the ocean bottom. the fish here is rarer but with more significance attached. he nods to the leader of the local baseball team and notices the empty armchair near the cold fireplace and lands there.  
– new face here, – the voice comes from the darker spot, where wonwoo manages to distinguish another armchair and the person occupying it. wonwoo doesn’t know what to answer. the pause fills with the long swirling stream of smoke. – you smoke?  
– i, - stumbles wonwoo, – have never tried.  
the stranger laughs mildly, but wonwoo hears him despite the fact that the music is still loud. his silhouette appears through the neon dim of the room. wonwoo recognizes the boy who caught his attention last week.  
it was high maths class. he entered without a knock, twenty minutes after the begging and just took the free place.  
– look who has come, – smirked jisoo. – don’t stare at him. you look like you’ve witnessed the sun eclipse.  
wonwoo blinked. the boy looked so careless and chilled, sleepy and bored. he gazed lazily at the blackboard and then raised his hand.  
– professor, there is a mistake. third equation.  
the old professor stepped back and checked the mistake. wonwoo swallowed the lump. he felt very uneasy with this guy in the room. firstly, he appears in the class of the respectable teacher imprecisely. behaves as if he was forced to be here, at one of the most important and complicated courses of the semester, and then, half asleep, finds the mistake the whole class has missed.  
– don’t stare, – jisoo repeated. – he is always like this.  
– who is he? – whispered wonwoo.

  
damn.

  
– vernon, – the hand cuts the darkness and wonwoo hurries to shake it.  
– wonwoo.  
– here. try this, you look too chained.  
wonwoo automatically enfolds the self-rolled cigarette with his lips, watching it glow.  
– bolder, – guides the voice. wonwoo takes a deep puff and coughs. – okay, enough for now.  
wonwoo sips the cocktail to wash down the taste of weed. vernon puts the cigarette between his teeth and relaxes, giving wonwoo a curious look.  
– we met before?  
– just once. high maths.  
wonwoo examines him too. vernon keeps silent for a moment, and then breathes out softly:  
\- _너 쳐다봤죠. (so it was you who stared.)_  
wonwoo’s throat dries. he touches his open elbows to calm down the goosebumps from hearing his mother tongue.  
\- _미안해, 무례해서 미안해. (sorry, that wasn’t really polite of me.)_  
\- _괜찮아. (it’s okay.)_  
vernon smothers the cigarette. his luminous sneakers glow, but his smile is nearly candescent as he reaches out closer to wonwoo.  
– i haven’t spoken it so long. i must have terrible accent.  
– i haven’t noticed, – answers wonwoo without a thought in his head. vernon looks him into the eyes and then smiles again.  
– ‘cause you’re high.

  
***

  
the following hour passes by in the endless conversation. vernon brings two more cocktails and tells wonwoo about his family, the move from korea and how he entered the college by chance. his voice is like a sunny bay, rocking wonwoo gently on its waves. it is easy to talk to him – wonwoo isn’t sure what exactly has bought his heart: vernon being a half-blood, wonwoo being high, them speaking korean or vernon’s smile that blooms in the dark.  
– you like it? – vernon must have noticed how wonwoo touches his lips with his look.  
– what? – wonwoo blushes.  
– the party, – vernon’s hand sways in the air. wonwoo nods weakly. he really likes it now. the sea of smoke, the ghosts of other people around. sudden lights cutting through the darkness. vernon reflects wonwoo’s move and smiles again. something inside wonwoo’s belly aches sweetly from the view of it. he is fine, even better than just fine, for the first time since he has arrived here.  
– i’m high, – he says pointlessly. vernon agrees and his eyes meet wonwoo’s. the music falls down on them from somewhere above.  
– it’s my favorite song, – vernon shares and relaxes in his chair. wonwoo feels dizzy, but he can’t stop the words:  
– want to dance?  
vernon lifts up his head he just threw back. wonwoo can bet he sees a new expression on his face.  
– i do.  
wonwoo longs to remember the moment when vernon gave him his hands – both big and a bit wet, but so warm that wonwoo realized how cold his own hands are. suddenly they are in the middle of the room, among the dancing bodies. vernon’s curls jump a little when he stomps his feet and his sneakers light up the dance floor. wonwoo laughs openly, falling into vernon’s arms and hearing him laughing too.  
vernon is too close. but it’s okay. here… they are safe.  
closer to the climax of the song vernon draws wonwoo closer and his hands travel along wonwoo’s spine down to his waste. wonwoo allows him to lead their unelaborate dance and even pays vernon back with circling his neck.  
vernon sings along with the song – lips moving, and wonwoo reads in his eyes that he is completely aware of what wonwoo thinks. they weave in the rhythm of the song when the mind betrays wonwoo and he pushes vernon towards his own, pressing their lips together.  
vernon breath burns wonwoo’s skin and that feels right.  
there is nothing special in this kiss. simple touch, until vernon smiles into it and opens wonwoo’s lips with his tongue. wonwoo breathes out a soft squeak, ready to play back, but vernon holds him tighter, slowly enjoying the sensation which is new for both of them: kissing with almost a stranger in the crowded room, when looks one by one turn to you. wonwoo thinks of the same, furiously blushing to the tips of the ears.  
– wanna go somewhere? – murmurs vernon when the song ends. he looks right into wonwoo’s eyes. both a little out of breath, but vernon looks so confident and unashamed, like nothing special has happened. wonwoo’s heart pounds madly:  
– yes.  
another songs hits the air, but the room lacks their charmed presence already.

  
***

  
the door of the apartment slams at 2 a.m.  
vernon nails wonwoo to the wall. he appears to be much stronger, than wonwoo thinks, but his hands are the only reason why wonwoo is still standing, because his own knees are weak and head spins from the second kiss hansol gives him.  
the blood runs slower with every movement of their tongues, interwoven. vernon sighs with such a sincere delight, that wonwoo can’t believe it’s him who makes vernon feel like this. wonwoo kissed before. but no one kissed him like that. like he was the spring of cool water in the sandy ocean of desert. he can feel the heat of vernon’s body buried under the layers of clothes. that drives wonwoo mad.  
vernon kisses him again and again, with childish greediness and curiosity.  
– i can’t breathe, - whispers wonwoo between the kisses, but vernon ignores it and nips his lips with his own, daring him to fall into another make out session.  
they bumps into walls and objects on the way to the bedroom. vernon catches wonwoo when he is about to get a spill and they both fall on undone bed. it devours wonwoo under the weight of vernon’s body.  
– tell me when to stop, – vernon snuggles into wonwoo’s neck, covering it with dewy-like kisses. wonwoo whimpers helplessly. vernon’s hands find his and intertwine their fingers. – okay, baby?  
– f-fine, – mewls wonwoo without any idea of the effect this sound has on vernon.  
surrounded by the scent of the unknown place wonwoo loses himself in sensations. alcohol and smoke evaporate from his blood, but vernon is twice headier than this. he caresses open spots of wonwoo’s skin tenderly, but wonwoo feels the desire vernon hides behind it.  
– everything okay, baby? – vernon’s lips move to wonwoo’s ear and that’s something wonwoo can’t bear.  
– i-i don’t know.  
– what’s that? – vernon stops immediately. – am i pushing you?  
wonwoo feels so small and weak under him. there is something in vernon’s scent, his eyes, the way he speaks to wonwoo that makes wonwoo feel like he is someone else. not the one he used to see in the mirror. all the anxiety and feeling of not belonging here go up in smoke.  
– wonwoo?  
– _이름이 뭔가?_  
the pause lasts for ages.  
– hansol.  
another pause. vernon shifts his eyes for the first time this evening. wonwoo feels his embarrassment.  
– why… do you ask?  
– i just thought – if you will answer i… i won’t stop you tonight.  
wonwoo is breathless until vernon – hansol – smiles.  
– at the party, when this song began, i thought that if you will offer me a dance i will kiss you.  
– really?  
– yeah.  
– but i kissed you first.  
– i didn’t want to force things. you looked like you can fall into pieces at any moment. you still do.  
– i have never slept with strangers.  
– and we are strangers?  
– … aren’t we?...  
hansol touches his cheek and suddenly kisses him on forehead.  
– don’t worry about it. is it a big deal, if i feel like asking you out tomorrow?  
– you do what? i-i mean… you barely know me.  
– it feels like i’ve known you forever. and i like you.  
– i… like you too, hansol.  
– gosh, – chuckles vernon. – no one has called me like this for years.  
– can i call you hansol?  
– yes. it sounds good from you. but you don’t have to sacrifice anything for this. if you want to, we’ll stop here.  
– too late.  
– hm?  
wonwoo bites his lip. hansol thinks for a few seconds and then throws a look at wonwoo’s jeans.  
– oh, baby.  
wonwoo whines from shame, covering face with hands and pulling fingers into hair.  
– no-o, baby, that’s okay. hey, i’ll take care of it. may i?  
wonwoo nods slightly without opening his face, but that’s enough for hansol to understand that wonwoo is afraid of his desires, not of the person in whose bed he is.  
hansol slips down to the floor between wonwoo’s legs, noticing how hard he is on the way. wonwoo squints so tight that he sees white sparks behind his eyelids.

maybe he is making his biggest mistake now.

  
hansol deals with his jeans, but lets them stay. wonwoo is stressed out enough already, no need to make him feel even worse. hansol only wants him to feel good.  
– hey, – calls hansol climbing the bed to comfort wonwoo. hansol kisses his hands and pokes them with his nose in catlike manner, until wonwoo smiles palely. – close your eyes if you don’t want to see me, but let me kiss you again, baby, please.  
– i… i want to see you, but it’s so embarrassing.  
– what?  
wonwoo doesn’t find the answer and slowly puts his hands off his face. hansol smiles – wonwoo feels it though his eyes are shut. the first kiss falls innocently on his cheek as hansol wraps his cock gently. wonwoo gasps, clenching the blanket into his fists. hansol’s hand goes down, kisses leave a trace down to wonwoo’s neck and then, with hand going up, lift to wonwoo’s lips. slowly, hansol lays his palm against wonwoo’s wet head, free from the skin, and presses slightly, making wonwoo moan into the kiss. the sound drowns between them. wonwoo grips his shoulders desperately, his legs squirm uncontrollably. hansol breaks the kiss and wonwoo’s voice fills the room. he is so hot and wet into hansol’s hands, and the latest feeling that can be equal in comparison to the storm he causes in wonwoo was so long ago, that there is nothing left except to let hansol fasten the pace. pinned by the shiver, wonwoo moans once more, his back arches towards hansol’s body – wonwoo cums with a voiceless groan and opens his eyes.  
– shh, – hansol hushes him down softly, his hand still moving along wonwoo’s cock. – it’s okay, everything is okay.  
the dawn splits the sky in two, but all wonwoo sees is hansol’s honey-like eyes, flickering with delight in the grey darkness of early morning.

  
maybe, he thinks, to kiss hansol was the best decision he made so far.


End file.
